The Longest Winter
by with regards
Summary: "A misguided ideal is to place brawn over brain." The person who was once Son Gohan is now in a world spiralling of hate, politics and death, where wits is the key to survival in a life where killing is just good business. Alternately, a father's remorse can't allow him to move on when everyone else is just about ready to let go. A world where Gohan's trip to Namek led him astray.


**The Longest Winter**

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**Chapter One. **

**Southern Breeze**

Several of the serving children were breaking, enjoying the rare warm weather that planet Eeashearles was offering that morning. Pink skies suggested the hope of seeing the distant stars pass by one of the moons later that day, so everyone was keen to see such a rarity. Particularly a certain young man who had not seen beyond darkness in a long while.

Eeasherles was a naturally dark, cold planet that was often under a heavy duvet of snow. The young man, still clearly in his teenage years, had been positioned there for the last year. His pale complexion implied that he hadn't experienced hotter climates in a long while. In fact, he hadn't left the South Quadrant, naturally icier than it's other Quadrant counterparts, for years.

He was an average height for his age, very slim despite a toned body, and was very stern looking. Eyes too sharp for his years burned into his fellow officers' and made most feel uncomfortable. Even those above him felt uneasy in his presence. Coal-coloured hair draped over eyes of the same tone, falling down to his mid-back in a neat ponytail. The young man doted few cuts and bruises, but only two prominent scars stood out. One thin line overlapping his lips, and another long, deep line along his throat. Overall, he doted a collected aura.

Though, it did take him by surprise when one of the serving boys ran headfirst into him in an attempt not to be caught in a game of chase. The boy looked up with wide eyes and the world stood still for him for a moment.

"Ah, ah! I'm so sorry, sir! Real sorry!" the child eventually apologized dramatically, bowing profusely. "It was an accident –it'll never happen again! I swear it! I promi-"

The young man simply flicked the child on the head. The serving boy fell to his bottom before jumping up, bowing once more, and dissolved back into the crowd of children.

"Stitch!" greeted a new voice before the teenager could enjoy the weather further. It was one of his fellow officers, an aging Meatian that had long ago survived the slaughter of his planet. The teenager didn't remember his name. The Meatian sluggishly jogged up to him and nodded. "I'll take over your watch, Stitch. You're wanted by command in the PSD."

"I'm not on duty." Stoically replied the young man, Stitch. "Free-time."

The Meatian scoffed and gestured to the different-raced children with his purple claw. "And you're wasting your free-time babysitting these brats?"

"I have no interest in that…" Stitch commented coldly. "Though, with no-one watching them I'm sure that would provide you a fantastic opportunity to devour each of them. I've heard that several of the serving girls have been disappearing from their beds each month."

"I would never!"

"Hmn. Surely not." Stitch mocked, walking away from the seething Meatian.

Several of the officers didn't play nice. Stitch hated most of his colleagues so he made sure that whatever unit he worked in was very small. That's why he was transferred to the Science Division on planet Eeasherles. It took a few months and he had to appease several higher ups before his transfer was even considered, but he eventually got the green light… with some conditions, of course.

Naturally, he was forever to be on-call to his original Purging Division should they ever need him. Which, surprisingly, was very rarely. They had only contacted him once since his transfer to cleanse one of the larger planets nearby the Science Division. Another promised condition was to continue his rigorous body training for at least five hours a day. He was not allowed to fall behind, and he was to have his power-levels tested weekly.

What frustrated Stitch's higher-ups was that they all knew that he was far more useful in a practical division, not some paper-pushing igloo that was the Science Division. Underfunded and understaffed, Stitch knew that this was the last place Lord Hailer would wish for a Saiyan to dwell.

Stitch had always understood he had Saiyan heritage. When he arrived at the Science Division, the leading doctor ran numerous tests on him and was shocked to find out that he was mixed race. There was nothing in the database to offer to what Stitch's second race could be, but it was shocking enough to discover that a Saiyan hybrid could even survive.

Now nearing the medical bay, Stitch found himself somewhat pleased to be getting out of the warming weather. He was particularly sensitive to heat.

The medical bay was large and empty, only with humble offerings of diminished first-aid kits and weary furniture. The place depressed Stitch every time he entered it. Half the time, he was surprised that they even had access to power. Though, there weren't many visitors to the medical bay to complain about it. None of the researchers were foolish enough to injure themselves.

Stitch passed by some tired beds that were hidden in a small section of the room and neared a large door leading into the Planetary Statistics department. He smoothed his free-time robes out before entering.

"Officer Agel." Grunted an old man in an important-looking garb. Stitch closed the doors behind him before nodding in greeting. The old man stroked his chin and curled his whitening beard. "I've been told they call you Stitch around here."

"Not by choice, sir." Stitch replied respectfully, noticing the old man's commander emblem. The expensive red armour gave away that he was from the North Quadrant.

The old commander smiled deviously. He then patted his chest proudly under Stitch's stare. "Yes, I've come a long way. Surprisingly, it only took two months to get here. 'Though! I do have to say that the Southern Quadrant is fucking freezing. Lost three men getting here, too."

"Did you send for me?"

"I did." Nodded the commander, and then coughed into his hand. The smell of blood lingered in Stitch's nose. "Don't mind me, boy. This weather isn't good for an old man. Can we go somewhere warmer and talk?"

Stitch didn't want to upset him by telling him that this was the warmest weather he had felt in months. So they just walked in silence. Something didn't sit right with Stitch with this commander's presence. Nobody left the North Quadrant, especially to enter the South. The South Quadrant was poorer, colder and far less populated than any of the other quadrants. Only the vast amount of energy resources attracted trade.

"You must be wondering why I'm here, officer." Teased the old man. They had now reached Main Base and therefore the roaring fire that was centered in the room. The old man scuttled over to the flames and hovered his hands over. Stitch followed, but didn't near the fire. "I am Commander Bladestein. I work in the Recruitment Division back in the North Quadrant."

Stitch stared. "So you worked for Frieza."

Bladestein laughed, throwing Stitch. "Worst time of my life. Though, It's not much better now that Lord Cooler's taken over the North. Say, rumours are floating around that Lord Hailer's after expanding, however. Is he going to steal that golden throne from under our mighty Lord Cooler?"

"I haven't heard such things." The teenager said statically. It was a lie, however. Stitch and anyone with half a brain cell knew the worst kept secret in the Planetary Trade Organization. Lord Hailer had been preparing his advance on the North since Frieza's death.

The commander obviously didn't buy it. "Oh, I'm sure." He raised a furry brow at the half-Saiyan and his smirk returned. "Makes you wonder why Lord Cooler has asked for _your_ transfer into the North Quadrant."

If Bladestein expected a reaction, he was going to be disappointed.

Stitch narrowed his eyes suspiciously but said nothing.

"I was doubtful that Lord Hailer would deploy you." Bladestein continued. He bitterly moved his hand away from the fire and pulled a piece of paper from under his left breastplate. "Apparently, if you're not transferred immediately then Lord Cooler will declare an attack on South Central, hence an attack on Lord Hailer."

"Lord Cooler wants me working under him, then…" Stitch muttered.

"Oh yes." A twinkle in Bladestein's eyes flashed. "I imagine Lord Cooler found out that big brother dearest was harbouring a Saiyan."

Again, Stitch's eyes narrowed.

Bladestein laughed loudly, flapping his piece of paper. "Oh don't look so suspicious, Agel. I'm old enough to remember what a Saiyan looks like. You're a bit of a runt, but you certainly have all those Saiyan traits. Well, except that pesky tail."

"Nobody is to know." The young man coldly hissed.

"Nobody but the doctors here, myself, both Lord Hailer and Lord Cooler, and several others that you have worked under." Smirked the old man. "I don't wish to startle you but rumours of a Saiyan being sheltered on some desolate planet_ is_ spreading."

"Saiyans are hunted and killed," he reminded the commander. "We're not exactly a loved people."

"You're wasted here. Strong fighters grow in the North." Bladestein sighed and finally passed Stitch the piece of paper. It was an order. It was clear that Stitch would have no choice in the matter. "Lord Hailer will have no choice but to give you to Lord Cooler. He can't afford to have South Central attacked. Not right now."

Lord Hailer and Lord Cooler were alike in blood, and also alike in personalities. Both brothers to Lord Frieza, they were just as greedy as another and were currently fighting over the North Quadrant that Lord Frieza once controlled. Originally, Lord Cooler took to the West and Lord Hailer took to the South, whilst King Cold constantly holidayed in the East. When King Cold died along with Lord Frieza, nobody was interested in the East. The East Quadrant was full of stars and was incredibly hot, already devoid of a great deal of life credit to King Cold.

It was Lord Hailer who bought Stitch when he was boy. A retiring, but highly successful labor contractor was selling his slaves cheaply at a black market. One of Lord Hailer's recruiters found him and obviously recognized his Saiyan heritage. Stitch remembered briefly that that certain recruiter earned a promotion of some kind…

The transition from slave to soldier was something Stitch had struggled with. He was malnourished and spiritually broken upon his arrival to one of Lord Hailer's vessels. They told him that he probably wouldn't live into his adulthood, and that expense shouldn't be wasted on his growth. Even now, he wasn't exactly tall, and was still quite thin. But at least he was alive.

"You understand why you're here, don't you? You understand why you're in the South Quadrant?" Bladestein asked, already knowing the answer.

"I have an inkling."

"Lord Hailer has kept you from the North for years, Agel." The old commander commented, amusement shining through dusty eyes. "Had Lord Cooler known, you would have been long ago transferred. Lord Hailer has removed you from the Purging Division, hasn't he?"

"I requested it."

"Why?"

"I wanted to stay in the South Quadrant." Stitch answered bluntly. "There isn't much further South than planet Eeashearles."

"_Why?_" Bladestein pushed. "Why the South?"

"Because it's not the North."

"You don't like the North? You were there?" Again, Bladestein knew the answer.

Frustration didn't get the best of Stitch. "When I was a boy I was, apparently."

"You still are a boy." The old man quickly retorted cheekily, eyes silently laughing.

There was a brief silence between the two, giving Stitch an opportunity to keep himself collected. But when Bladestein looked at him again, he had lost all delight in his features. Stitch's blood ran cold. The once almost friendly appearing commander now gave off an aura of ice coldness.

"You were there several years ago. I believe you met our late Lady Glacia. I also know that you're under strict instructions not to ever enter the North Quadrant, courtesy of Lord Hailer." Bladestein eventually said.

Stitch's eyes hardened and fists clenched.

"I understand that that's very confidential information." Bladestein added. "Now I think you can fathom what kind of position I hold. I have very close ties in the Frost family, and I had very close ties with Lady Glacia. You probably don't remember, but we met years ago during your deployment from the North. You were such a small boy, very skinny. Many didn't believe you were Saiyan, including Lady Glacia."

"I don't remember being in the North very well."

"You were bought in the North, though I don't suppose you'll remember that either. I'm sure you recall meeting the Lady, however." Bladestein looked him dead in the eyes. "I know what happened, young man. So does Lord Cooler."

"Then what is this?" Stitch questioned edgily. "My imprisonment? Am I being transferred just to be imprisoned?"

"You and I both know that that's not true. Otherwise you would just be imprisoned here, on this wasteland of a planet. There would be no need to waste all the fuel just to pick your not-so-sorry behind up, now, would there? So, do tell, what's the real reason you asked to be transferred to the Science Division?"

Stitch paused. "I enjoy working here. I enjoy working with machines -weapons interest me."

"Don't get me wrong, Agel. You obviously have a talented intellect, rare for a Saiyan, but we both know you're here researching the Iceglass ailment."

Stitch folded his arms. "I see you've spoken with my assistants."

Bladestein's stern composure broke and he started cackling loudly. "Assistants?" The old man repeated, obviously charmed. "Oh, you're certainly no normal officer, are you?"

He was right. Stitch was considerably stronger than every other officer he had ever come across. Several commanders held a respect for the young man, some even feared him. Despite only few people knowing Stitch was Saiyan, he was fairly well known in the Planetary Trade Organization for quick and thorough purge work.

"I have allowances." Stitch told him begrudgingly. "I have been allowed to have a man or two help me."

"Lord Hailer would shut you down instantly if he knew you were trying to find a cure. You contracted the virus from Lady Glacia, didn't you?"

Stitch remained silent.

"But you're getting nowhere. You won't find a cure in the South Quadrant." Bladestein leaned in. "But I can tell you where to find it."

The teenager looked at him with a cautious expression. "It's dubious when a commander wants to tell an officer such information." Stitch then remarked coolly.

This commander was not normal, Stitch concluded. Stitch had met plenty of commanders with extravagant personalities, but this Bladestein took it to a whole different level. His openness unsettled the teenager a little.

The old man twirled his beard again. He smiled cryptically. "Oh, you are vigilant, aren't you? You types always make me laugh."

'_Types?'_

"Oh don't look so peeved." Bladestein chortled once more. He rubbed his hands over the fire. "Now I do believe we have been talking for some time and you haven't even saluted me once!"

Stitch stared at him, a little dumbfounded, but threw a hand to his forehead nonetheless. "Sir!"

Bladestein roared with laughter.

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**-tbc**

Greetings. Yes, another 'Gohan being abducted far, far away' story. How original am I? Well, I love it. I love this type of story. And I won't ever apologize for my lack of initiative! Okay, I'm actually a little sorry. But that's because I really could be working on another story right now -one that's been on hiatus forever. No names to what it is because I don't know whether or not I'd ever re-write it. But it was fairly popular at the time. I first joined fanfiction in 2005 I think, and this is my third account (because I'm flakey). For a while now, I've been wanting to write this so I decided to bite the bullet and give fanfiction another shot.

Thanks for reading!


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